


A good day to come home to you

by Beleriandings



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Circus Family, Flowers, Friendship, Gen, drunk silliness, fluff basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-13 20:52:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beleriandings/pseuds/Beleriandings
Summary: Yasha, as she so often does, comes back.





	A good day to come home to you

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from a platonic touch meme on tumblr, "full body lean" for Mollymauk and Yasha.

The air in the tavern was growing humid and warm with the fire in the kitchen and the presence of many bodies as the night carried on, the sticky heat, the smell of spilled drink and the sharpness of sweat and leather only relieved by a soft cool breeze from the open window. It carried in the particular scent of summer nights, the cooling dust of the day and the heavy perfume of lilacs from the overgrown tangle of the purple blooms outside.

Yasha watched from a little way off for a while, half hidden behind a low, diagonal beam; she hadn’t been back to the circus in several weeks, but, it seemed, today had been a good day for them. Sometimes they were chased out of town, accused of thieving, and sometimes they just didn’t make any money, leaving Ornna’s temper raw and Gustav brooding, and everyone’s moods correspondingly dark as they made their way to the next town. 

There was another kind of night, though; when they did a show and the local people loved it, they were bought drinks and celebrated, treated as though the ground they walked on really did sparkle with magic.

Tonight seemed to be one of those nights, Yasha was glad to see. More people in this town had followed the circus into the tavern after the show than the little ramshackle place was built to house, and the bartender was blustering and flushed pink in the face, rushed off his feet as he fetched drink after drink.

Yes, she thought; she had picked a good day to return, for she felt her heart swell a little with how happy everyone looked. A little group had surrounded the Knot sisters, Kylre was playing a tense-looking game of chess with an impressively bearded fire genasi in the corner, and several elderly gnome women were fussing over a sleepy Toya, curled up in a booth by the open window. Desmond seemed to have found the other bard in the place, and was playing the flute in approximate harmony with their fiddle while Gustav danced with Bo. Ornna threw criticism, though Yasha could see her struggling to keep the affectionate smile from her face. But no one looked happier than Molly; he was easy to spot, sitting on the table itself with his long legs crossed. Yasha had to stifle her laughter as she saw that he was attempting to juggle four apples – no, it must be five or six - as a group of people clapped and laughed. Even when he dropped the apples in a bouncing cascade, they still looked amused; Molly’s own delight was always infectious, his grin impossible not to mimic as he caught the last apple and took a bite of it, not sparing on the slightly lascivious wink to his apparent admirers as he did so.

He looked more than a little drunk already, thought Yasha affectionately, as someone pushed small cup of something dark and amber and very strong-looking into his hand. He threw back his head and drank it down in one to much cheering, though as he did Yasha did not miss his hand going out to slip a coin or two into the pocket of the man who had bought it for him.

As he turned back from doing this, his eyes caught hers in the corner, and she watched his face light up at the sight of her.

“Yasha!” Molly yelled over the noise, waving with both arms. “Hello! Everyone, this is my best friend Yasha. So you’ll have to excuse me, I have some catching up to do…”

And with that, Molly jumped down off the table promptly, weaving his way over to her with his drink still in hand. He swayed a little, gesturing expansively as he took her hand, then without any warning, leaned against her with his whole body, a little of his drink spilling on her.

She smiled, ruffling his hair as she supported his weight against her. “Hi Molly. I missed you.”

“I missed you too…” he hiccuped. “I’m a bit drunk, ‘m afraid, Yasha…”

“Yes, I can tell.” She let him take her wrist and pull her to one of the tables, his audience all milling around still. Molly was ignoring them now though, in favour of sitting down on the bench beside Yasha with his feet tucked up underneath him, leaning in to her side. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders loosely, only now realising how much she had missed this, while she had been away.

As she did so, more drinks were poured, and brought over to them.

“You have to try this apple…thing…” Molly squinted exaggeratedly at his drink and taking another sip, sliding Yasha’s towards her. “They make it here. S’good.”

She laughed, quietly, still holding up his weight in her arms. “Okay, okay, I will.” She took a sip of the drink; the smell of spiced apples and something fiery that she couldn’t identify, heating the back of her throat. “This would be good in winter” she said, thinking of the cold winters of her childhood.

Molly shrugged, downing the rest of his drink. “Well, it’s summer now, and I’m not one to complain.”

“No, you’re right.”

He flicked his tail in a pleased sort of way. “I usually am.”

He leaned back precariously far in her arms to pat her head, so that she had to shift to keep him from falling over off the bench. He always trusted her so completely, she thought. It still surprised her sometimes, given…well, who she was, and how little he knew about her. Though, from what she had heard Molly knew very little about himself too, and she had been in his life for about half of it. It was always a strange thought, that one.

She felt a renewed rush of affection, as Molly leaned in close to her again, the ridge of one of his horns bumping against her chin. Someone had picked some of the lilac blooms from outside and woven them into his hair, but they were starting to come loose. Yasha stifled a sneeze as the pollen and heady lilac scent hit her nose. Molly turned around at that, tipping back the rest of his drink as he looked up at her, slamming down the cup on the table and throwing himself into her arms in a renewed hug. When he drew away, a sprig of lilac really had fallen down, half covering one eye. Yasha laughed, reaching forward to fix it, but Molly beat her to it; he pulled the lilac from his hair and leaned forward to tuck it into one of Yasha’s braids instead.

“There” he said. “You should have one too. It’s only fair.”

“Thank you” said Yasha. “I’ll wear it, and put it in my book later.”

Molly smiled even wider, patting her cheek. “I’ve missed having you around to give flowers to.”

“You don’t have to give me flowers, you know” she said, stroking his hair only half conscious of what she was doing; it was a habit they had, and Molly arched his back against her, the tip of his tail beginning to curl around her wrist a bit. “You can just…have flowers. For yourself.”

“But that’s not nearly so much fun!”

“You could give them to someone else. One of these people who like to watch you doing tricks, maybe.”

Sure enough, a lot of the people who had been surrounding Molly earlier seemed to be milling around still, shooting Yasha looks that varied from curious to jealous.

“These people are lovely, of course. But they like my tricks. You like _me_.” He tapped his lip thoughtfully, holding an errant blossom between his fingers and squinting at it. A moment later, he turned to look at her again though, giving her a look that of remarkable shrewdness given how unfocused his eyes were, and the dark fuschia flush to his purple skin from the alcohol. “Well, anyway. I hope you got to do what you had to this time.”

“I…yes, I suppose I did manage to do… some of it.” She hesitated a moment. “I should…hopefully be able to stay, for a while at least.”

“Good,” said Molly. “You missed some interesting stuff though, I’m afraid. The towns on this stretch of coastline seem to need some cheering up, and they loved us…well mostly. There was one…unfortunate one.”  
“Oh? What happened?”

Molly gestured vaguely with his hand; she noticed that where before only a snake tattoo had curled up his arm, there were now flowers there, as though the serpent was crawling through a field of them. That part was new since she had last seen him, she was sure.

“Oh, you know… they chased us out of town for theft, so… the usual, really. Some people just don’t appreciate the delight of stealing from the rich and powerful. …Specifically, the rich and powerful don’t appreciate it.” He hiccuped again. “But, ah well. Now we’re here, and you’re here, and everyone in this place seems like good people, so that’s better already.”

“Yes” she said. “I think so, too.”

For the rest of the evening, Molly regaled her with tales of what the circus had been doing in her absence, with increasing drunken flair. She was glad to listen to him talk; as she always did, she simply sat calmly, sipping her drink occasionally as Molly gestured and flicked his tail and laughed at his own jokes and impersonated people’s voices and faces until she was laughing along, late into the warm summer night.

Eventually though, they both fell silent. The noise and bustle in the tavern had subsided now, as the hours slipped away towards morning. Even most of the others from the circus had left, to return to their wagons and tents.

Molly had fallen asleep against Yasha’s side not long ago. She sighed, and stroked his hair again before lifting him up in her arms. This wasn’t the first time she had had to carry him to bed, and she doubted it was the last; it felt familiar and easy to do.

She carried him out of the tavern, the sun beginning to rise as she crested the hill to the circus tents, ducking through an entranceway and laying Molly down on his bedroll. As she did so though, he stirred, eyes cracking open a little to show a sliver of red. “Yasha…” he said. “S…sorry, I think I got a bit drunk, there.” He giggled to himself. “Apples. It’s the apples…”

“You don’t say” she said, gently draping his coat over him like a blanket. “Sleep it off, Molly.”

“Mmph” said Molly, rolling over sleepily. “Yasha?”

“Yes?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

She sighed. “Yes” she said. She sat down beside his bedroll, deciding right there and then that she wouldn’t be going anywhere else tonight. This time, at least. “Yes, I promise I will be.”


End file.
